Ecstasy - Connor x Reader Detroit: Become Human

Chapter 5: Broken Trinity

A metallic snake soars past in a blink and screeches to a halt. The train tracks whine at supporting the weighted machinery and all of its rumbling pours through the entirety of the building and my body. Vibrations bounce around the space, and it forces every stationary object to aggressively dance with its short-lived rhythm. It pierces the insides of my head, and a stinging sensation begins to overstimulate my hearing.

The unpleasant loudness interrupts my slumber and shakes me completely awake. As my heartrate quickens, a monitor beside me begins mimicking it. Then the realisation finally hits me. This place isn't home, nor the precinct.

Bandages and chords are wrapped around my arms. In panic, I feel my body for additional injuries. Before I can ask for anybody nearby, the natural scent of flowers sweeps relief into me. A smile glues to my face. 'Signed by Hank, Connor, and the DPD.' Blues, purples, and reds are mixed together, presenting a delicate gradient within the bouquet.

The white linen draping over me is carefully put aside. Silently, I creep closer to the glass with the chords still attached to me. Through the singular window, I count the floors. Level 3 isn't so terrible. Makes leaving this place a quicker process. Detroit absorbs the night and projects its own radiance back onto the skies. Down below, only a few moving figures are hinted at by the traffic lights.

Is this still the same day? Darting my sight around the room for an indication of time, I snatch my phone from the bedside table and check. The time reads 3:47 am, the day after the explosion. Honestly, I thought I'd be out for longer. For somebody who works at the DPD, I'm quite lucky to have close to no injuries compared to other patients.

From the corner of the room, a notification sounds from a laptop. It lay there, watching me eagerly. Its existence begs for me to interact with it. A message states: "Meet me in the lobby on the last floor. I will be waiting." When I finish taking a mental note, indistinguishable characters bombards the screen.

Appearing, disappearing, and then it collapses on itself. Shortly after, as if it changed its mind, it blinks back on. A timer of five minutes is plastered on the screen, and it begins to count down. Every second that passes caused the laptop to sound ticking noises. It slowly, but progressively becomes louder.

Caught in a startled surprise, I stumble into the door. Any chord connected to me tightens, and I claw it out the moment a hand of mine seizes any one of them. Who planted this here? Could Connor be in danger? No, could I be in danger? A collection of rapid thoughts gathers to construct a conclusion of this situation.

What had been my best guess was along the lines of: 'A CyberLife member is here to ruin my upcoming investigation.' Reasonable enough, I suppose. In order to dispose of Connor, they would've discovered me sooner or later anyway.

Outside room 3E, the lobby barely exists. Isolated, empty, and dimly-lit. Cameras poke out of various random areas in the ceiling. As I perform a quick motion to test them, the nearby cameras have become alert and now focuses on my next actions. "Is anybody there?" I call out past the staff counter. The response to my question... results in stillness.

I observe a camera to hope for an alarm to begin or to find a sign of life behind the lenses. The next response was opposed to what I was hoping for. Level 3 has every operating light killed off and from that point on, my eyes squint through the night's embrace. On this floor, the jarring noises grows steadily louder from the laptop. Its ticking instantly made me grit my teeth.

Rumbling of the train picks back up again and it catapults itself into the depths of Detroit. Behind the nurse's counter in the lobby, my hands feel for anything of use. Nothing is of avail. As my last resort, I swipe my phone and utilise the bare minimum of light it could produce. It made me wish for my flashlight stuck in my bottom drawer at the police department.

As stealthily as I can manage, I find myself by the elevators. On both doors, a sign blocks my passage. The lifts provides information that it cannot be used, and the problem would be looked at within a week. My luck has abandoned me tonight. The notice board beside the buttons flickers to the same screen as room 3E's timer. Three minutes remaining.

The reminder of the alarm echoes so badly to the point the noises have completely surrounded me. Not one patient complains about the noise it was producing. It seems as though I was the only person who could hear this. Didn't exactly make me feel sane at all.

I study the nearest map and detour through the fire escape. Each flight of stars influences multiple kinds of pain to resurface. From the gashes on my arms to the scattered bruises that stains my skin. As I pass by any screen, the timer keeps haunting every pace that I take. That damned timer keeps damaging my ears until I reach the ground floor. Fatigue threatens to spread up my legs and my hamstrings starts twitching, causing an irritation between sharp movements.

After descending many stories, the final destination is in my grasp. However, upon reaching the end, my phone gives out. The door clicks open as a whine follows it. Echoes erupt into the empty lobby and its creaks cries out with every inch the door moves. Unwillingly, I slither out into the open with my phone sitting in my spare pocket.

As my shoes collide with the tiles, it gives out faint noises that reveals my positioning. The lobby covers my being in complete darkness. No staff is found lurking at the front desk, no visitors or a queue of people are present. An eerie and unfamiliar presence piques my interest. Further on, I continue to move, carefully, and swiftly.

They can be anywhere. Behind me. Infront of me. Possibly above me. Light steps plant onto the smoky grey tiles. Eyes are watching me. They are aware of my arrival. I throw myself behind a couch and peek past the edges. On my knees, I crawl to the closest furniture to shield my identity.

"You have under two minutes... detective," a warm and intriguing voice hums, on the brink of a playful yet mocking tone. The voice sounds rich and masculine. It's quite soothing to hear him. His intentions don't scream that he wants to hurt me. Rather, he wants something from me. There is an invisible connection. He knows it too. We are linked together in some way or in another.

I slide my back upwards to the next pillar and hold my breath. He draws himself closer and closer. A stinging sensation fills my hearing and soon a painful ringing shoots through it. All of it drains me, the pain grows unbearably and it toys with my vision. My legs buckle and smacks the floor. 

To my right, a figure hastily swings his arm around me. His palm slaps down onto the pillar and traps me in place. The other free hand he had left pressed my shoulder into the pillar. "Took you long enough," he teases. He lowers his gaze onto me, and from this, he exposes his true identity.

The stranger was a tall man, studying me with a pair of mysterious eyes. One blue, one green. His skin was tan, his hair was shaven nicely, and his build was toned and fit. He appeared rough, yet his palm feels soft and graceful on my shoulder. "You had a minute to spare, I'm certain you could've been faster than that."

His arms return to him and then folds across his chest. "Oh, sorry, it's not like I ran down 3 floors in a hospital and was injured or anything. It's not like you visit a hospital when you're hurt or sick or whatever. Oh, wait! That's what it's meant for, oh my that makes so much sense," He slaps me across the face. "We're running out of time. Cooperate with me and we'll argue later."

"Of course," he continues, "I'll probably win the argument as I usually do," he smirks while taking his hand in mine to lead me out of the front doors. His actions stuns me. "Are you kidnapping me?" I question aloud, and a bubbly laughter escapes his lips. "No, I'm taking you to day-care." I didn't let my true reaction rise to the surface.

The stranger drags me to the exit and dumps me in his convertible without being too harsh. He pushes me into the passenger seat and spins me around. His eyes study me further, "Listen, before we head off, I want you to know two things." We remain in a close proximity to each other. Perhaps too close.

"I don't work for CyberLife and I'm here to help you," he counts with his fingers. "If we don't get out of here in the next few minutes, those who do work for CyberLife will be chasing us around Detroit until they lose sight of us or capture us."

He pins his sharp gaze on me, "Got it? So, work with me here, alright?" I nod in agreement. "I won't protest for now," I state. He casts another smirk, steps around the vehicle, and enters the driver's seat. His hands fumble around the car and the engine hums alive. The wheels launch us onto the road, and he steers us through routes lacking a single camera that can catch us.

"Do you need to call anybody?" A name pops up immediately. Hank. "Yes, actually," the stranger fishes out his phone and offers it to me. I take it, say my thanks, and dial his number. First, I scan briefly through his device to identify him. "Your name is... Markus?" He stiffens, "Oh, right, I had forgotten to introduce myself. My apologies, (L/N)."

"But yes. You are correct," he finishes, clearly busied by the traffic. "Like, the Android Mayor of Detroit Markus?" I continue, "Like the Android Mayor of Detroit Markus," he repeats. "Are you going to call or what?" A quiet tone of irritation is exposed in his voice. I punch in the numbers again and wait for the other line to pick up. It takes a few moments to reach him, but when I did, I knew I woke Hank up.

"What do ya want?" He groans on the other end, "It's me, (Y/N)," I hesitantly speak. "(Y/N)? Oh, shoot, why are you calling from a different number?" I sigh at him, "My phone died, this was what I could manage." Sumo begins to bark in the background and Hank stifles the dog by playing with him. "What did you need?" He asks, evidently concerned. "I wanted to let you know that I'm out of the hospital and..."

"And she'll be away for a while working on an investigation on the side," Markus answers for me. "Who's that?" Hank shoots back, intimidated of the other voice. "A... friend. Don't worry about him," I stammer, "Listen, before I head back to bed..." he trails off. "I'm sorry, but your android's gone missing. One moment, he was talking to me about crazy ideas about the explosion, and the next I couldn't find him. Sumo couldn't track him either."

"Oh..." I bite my lip, not knowing what to say. "I'll find you at the precinct when I'm in a better shape, okay? We'll sort this out later." An unsettled sigh comes from him, "Alright, okay. Also, which friend are you with?" I stare at Markus and then at the road ahead of us, "Um, he's new, I met him last week, but I'll have to tell you about him later."

Hanks grumbles, "Okay then, stay safe you two." We end the call simultaneously. "That was convincing," Markus sarcastically remarks. If he didn't contribute to the phone call, I'm sure I would've revealed too much about Connor. Covertly, I'm glad he stole my words.

"Anyway, we're friends now? That was quick," I roll my eyes at him, "I didn't know what to say. Besides, he knows my family and I couldn't call you a relative or my boyfriend or anything else other than a friend," I explain in greater detail. "You should've called me your boyfriend; the call would've been a whole lot more amusing if you did." I part my lips at him and fought the urge to continue the conversation.

"Where are we headed?" I face away from him, changing the topic. "To find Connor. I have an idea of where he could be." I shift in my seat to face him, "Wait, you know about...?" He nods, while switching lanes to overtake the slow traffic. "Yes. I know. Probably everything about him, if it hadn't been for his memory wipe," he admits, "And I never got the chance to give you my thanks for saving him in the river until now. I'm sorry it took this long to reach you."

"Sounds like you've known him for quite some time, Markus," He rubs the back of his neck, breathing out a puff of warm air, "It's because I have, (Y/N)." A deep confliction grows behind the neutral mask he insists to leave on. His mind screams that he desires to speak more with me but continues to debate against the idea. Connor used to be important to him. To the mayor. The mayor that changed the history of deviants, the one who allowed machines to experience emotions freely.

Their past relationship must have been thrilling. At first, they would've inevitably worked against each other as the perfect polar opposites. What led them to share a renewed perspective together most definitely required a long journey.

Curiosity has fuelled me. Imagining Connor being different to who he is now... is more than difficult to picture. His past would have provided him a greater knowledge about the world. He would've been so advanced in his own career if it weren't for CyberLife.

Is his past so vital that CyberLife saw that it was costly toward them and their underground operations? God, by the time I piece together this jigsaw, I'd never be convinced that I've solved the whole picture.

For the spell of satisfaction to draw paranoia away from the case, I'd claim it a miracle. By the time this is over, there is still that possibility CyberLife could be working in another discreet location. Could they have done this to another android? What about-

"Detective," Markus clears his throat, "Yes?" My eyes flutter at his words. "Are you alright? You've been silent and you've been thinking so much, it's starting to worry me," He observes. From this, his glances became more frequent, and he wanted my attention. "Your words made me think about you and Connor a lot. Specifically, about the past," he enjoys my response, and the look on his face sent him reminiscing of his recent past.

"The revolution, you mean. We were all stuck in another world back then," his hand finds the dials to turn on the radio, keeping it at a soft volume. "I can go more in depth if you wish. Unfortunately, it'd be at another time. We're almost here," he exclaims, zig-zagging through the city.

The last turn stops us in an alleyway. We both clamber out of the vehicle, and I follow closely behind Markus. Finding Connor at this unknown area proves to be physically demanding. Markus already knew how to overcome these obstacles as if he's done this countless times.

When I couldn't manage to match his timing, he guides me through with alternative methods. "Don't tell a soul about this place. The public assumes that no activity has been held down here since the revolution. We have always been in a consistent operation without the people knowing about it. Nowadays, it's more of a council, so it's not too much of a disturbance if our meetings are interrupted," Markus claims.

"Don't worry, I'll swear an oath if it makes you feel better," he raises his hand at me, "No need. I'd know if you did anyway, and there will be dire consequences if you do." I rub my hands together to gain warmth, "A mayor threatening a detective. Never thought I'd see the day that would happen," I joke. "Don't worry, I'm usually nicer than this," he winks.

The mayor gestures to the abandoned freighter and walks me over the wooden bridge leaning onto it. There are many parts to this ship that is obviously renovated, and there are no signs anywhere that indicate this place is off limits. "Are you sure Connor is here?" I mutter, rubbing my arms to bite back the freezing wind. "Well, I trust North more than anything, so I believe so," I stare dumbly at him, "How much do you know about North?"

"Let's find the RK800 first," Markus sheepishly insists, and begins down the passage into the ship. Interesting reaction for the mayor to display. Potentially, I can learn more about her through Markus if I have to. My paperwork would desperately require a conclusion for Fowler to submit and I think he has what it takes to complete it. A whirring came from the pipelines and the brushing of brooms are audible. Cleaners eye me up and down while I walk with Markus. Majority of the LEDs are proven to be more red than blue.

Parts of the ship blur as sweat accumulates at the top of my forehead. The pace of my breathing increases and the mucus in my mouth dries up. Markus takes notice, "Are you okay?" He stutters and supports my back with a hand. "Yeah, no, I'm cool," The word 'cool' hasn't been used since I was back in high school. Good one, (Y/N). Disbelief crosses his expressions, "You don't exactly fool me with that response."

"Maybe I'm just tired?" I shrug, now hearing my heart beginning to beat quicker. The group of cleaners stops looking at us, yet the illusions continue to play with my sight. Markus lowers himself briefly to hold my body in his arms, bridal style. "You're close to fainting, I'll fix you up when I can find the right room," he speaks gently, taking longer strides. From earshot, mumbling was audible from a secluded area. Markus clearly recognises this and switches his priorities.

The door lay already ajar, and he nudges it to open wider. "North, I got the detective," he breathes, and the mumbling stops. There they stand. The neatly dressed woman, who I assume is North, stands next to Connor. "Hey guys," I weakly wave, "What did I miss?"

Connor abandons North and marches right up to Markus and I. "God, you look terrible," he widens his eyes out of pure panic. "Aw, thanks, it's nice to see you too," I hum, as a strange crushing weight built within my chest.

"Markus, we-" Connor speaks to him in a serious manner, but I fail make out the words. Their gazes dart back and forth. A mild buzz picks up and it hums over their speech. North joins in and the three figures all crowd around me. My heart threatens to quicken again. They didn't give me enough space to breathe. As worried as they all are, it made me feel useless.

Connor keeps staring at me and his hand cups my cheek. His hand trembles against my skin, then a warmth spread throughout his fingertips to soothe the pain of the icy temperature. Their mouths move but not a word made sense. Walls around them swirls around the conversation and the world seems so small. My adrenaline of rushing through the hospital has finally vanished. The tax of all that running has ended up burying me into some stranger's arms.

Lips brush the top of my ear and a delicate, fragile voice reaches out to me.

"I'll be with you when you wake up. I promise. I'll explain everything."